If It Means A Lot To You
by ErisandDysnomia
Summary: It wasn't that she didn't love him, she just couldn't wait any longer. OneShot. SongFic ConnorOC, go on, give it a read!


**Author's note: So, I have the worst case of writers block, ever. When I opened up my word document, (Fully intent on writing chapter 19 mind you) this is what happened instead. It's a song fic, and it goes along it If It Means A Lot To You by A Day To Remember. Just a warning people, be careful when you write with an iPod plugged in. strange things happen. anyhoo, it's my first one of these, so read and review please :D sorry about the writers block! *just a note: Shiloh's last name is pronounced DEE-Law-Ter, in case anyone cared :)***

**Disclaimer!: I don't own BDS or If it means a lot to you. but i love them both :]**

**Enjoy!**

_And hey darling_

_I hope you're good tonight_

_And I know you don't feel right when I'm leaving_

_Yeah I want it but no I don't need it_

_Tell me something sweet to get me by_

_'Cause I can't come back home till they're singing_

_La, la la la la la la_

'_Till everyone is singing_

Connor MacManus checked, and rechecked the sights on his gun, his stomach roaring with a mix of anticipation and excitement, like it always did before a hit. He had been wanting for this for a while. Murphy sat next to him, cleaning his own gun. Connor fought the urge to jump for joy, it had seemed like years since they had last pulled off a hit. But then again, there was a good reason for that.

Her.

Connor's girlfriend was everything his Ma had taught him to look for in a woman. She could cook, clean, and when she drank, she was just as cruelly funny as his mother. The 'Nawlins' bred woman had busted into his life, knocked some insignificant items over, and made herself a spot. Connor didn't have the patience to fight her, he wished the same could be said for her.

She sat on the couch in the small loft the boys lived in, with her knees drawn up to her chin. Her eyes were trained on a few reddish stains on the ground. Memories of their last hit. When they had busted through the door broken and bloody, and she had held both his and Murphy's hands as they became reacquainted with the iron.

She had done everything right, but as she had told him later that night, "Don't yuh be expectin me tuh do thayt again."

Connor put his guns down, and made his way over to her. He slowly knelt down in front of her, blocking the blood stains from her line of sight. "Come on now lass, look at me." he quietly ordered. He saw her bristle, she hated being ordered around.

"Yuh betta add a please on the end of thayt." she hissed. Connor smiled wryly at her.

"Please." he amended. She turned and looked at him, her dark eyes holding discontentment, and the same conversation they'd had a million times.

"I cayn't keep doin this." She whispered. Connor swallowed. He grabbed her face in his hands.

"Ye don't have ta do anything." he assured her. She scoffed.

"If thayt were true, I wouldn't be in haylf the pain I'm in now." she looked away from him. "I need ta talk to yuh about this."

"I can't talk right now. Ye know that I can't. Not right now." He answered, he leaned foreword so their foreheads were pressed together. "Wait for me ta come home. Then we'll talk. We'll talk all fucking night if dat's what ye want. But right now I can't."

"Connor please."

"Lass." there was command in his voice, but there was also a very slight plea. He could hear it and so could she. She just bowed her head, letting out a deep sigh. "Lass, just give me something sweet, aye? Just a little something?" he whispered quietly, making sure his nosey brother wouldn't be able to eavesdrop on this part of the conversation.

"_Je t'aime, ma douce, je t'aime_." She whispered, her French held the slight twang that was associated with the Louisiana French, but her meaning came across clean enough to Connor. _I love you, my sweet. I love you._

"_Je t'aime trop. rappelez-vous que_." He responded instantly, his French was just as foreign to her, instead of the twang, or even the uptightness her high school teacher's voice held, his betrayed his slight Irish inclination, but she understood the heartbreakingly bittersweet words. _I love you too. Remember that._ She hated this part. The part that sounded too much like final words for her taste.

Connor could feel the sorrow radiate off her, and he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. Softly, as if to reassure his earlier words. She kissed him back, arms resting around his neck. He pulled away too soon for either of their tastes.

"I have to go now love." he told her. She only nodded, and retreated back into her earlier position.

"As soon as yuh get home Connor." she mumbled. Connor swallowed, and stood up to return to his brother, the guns, and the calling.

_If you can wait till I get home_

_Then I swear to you_

_That we can make this last_

_(La la la)_

_If you can wait till I get home_

_Then I swear come tomorrow_

_This will all be in our past_

_Well it might be for the best_

Connor and Murphy stood by the door, as she leaned against the frame. Connor gave her the most reassuring smile he had. "We'll be back before ye know it."

"Aye." Murphy smiled at her as well. One of them she could resist, both however, were a completely different story. She found her self smiling back at them.

"Yuh betta be. Thayt's for sure." Connor leaned down and pressed his lips against hers again, the he walked out the door, and he didn't look back. He couldn't. The hardest part of this was actually walking out the door, and he'd be damned if those eyes were going to call him away from God's plan for him.

Again.

Murphy rolled his eyes, and pressed his lips on the corner of her mouth. "We will be home soon. We promise."

"I've long since learned tuh be wary of yuh promises Murphy MacManus." She gave a small laugh, and he turned toward the door, then he paused, also not looking back. "I'll keep my eye on him."

"Then who'll be watchin yuh?" She responded. There was no joke. They couldn't afford to be distracted by anything, especially each other. Too many times had she had to sit there and hold hands as they cleaned themselves up.

She was getting sick of it.

Murphy didn't respond as he followed his brother out the door. Which left her alone, in an empty apartment, with nothing to do but wait.

_And hey sweetie_

_Well I need you here tonight_

_And I know that you don't want to be leaving _

_Yeah you want it but I can't help it_

_I just feel complete when you're by my side_

_But I know you can't come home 'til they're singing_

_La, la la la la la la_

Shiloh DeLaughter figured that everyone had their own deadly sin, and hers was pride. She was too proud to admit that she needed help with her taxes. If they were just numbers, then she could handle it.

She was too proud to admit that the late hours at the mental health clinic she worked at were taking their toll on her. She was plagued by the same nightmares the patients had.

And now, she was too proud to admit that she was damn scared that Connor wouldn't be coming home. Too proud to admit that she loved him, and had grown to depend on him.

Oh right, and he's a killer. She loved a killer.

To be honest, the killing part didn't bother her as much as it should. In fact, that hardly registered with her morals. She had no morals. Not anymore. The part that killed her about this, was the waiting.

She was resigned to sit in an empty apartment, and wait for hours, sometimes days, for her boyfriend to walk through the door. And if was a cold day in hell, then he walked through the door unharmed.

He loved what he did. She understood that. Didn't mean she was able to accept it.

She'd grown to accustom to having Connor by her side, having him when she needed him, and even when she didn't.

She'd been around when the Saints had started making papers, she half heartedly read their religious plight, she remembered thinking 'Good on yuh, bout tyme someone made good on they threats' then she had tossed the paper aside.

The religious plight was nothing to her, but everything to Connor. She understood that.

The call was everything to him, that she also understood.

Accept it? She just couldn't anymore.

_If you can wait till I get home_

_Then I swear to you_

_That we can make this last_

_(La la la)_

_If you can wait till I get home_

_Then I swear come tomorrow_

_This will all be in our past_

_Well it might be for the best_

Connor and Murphy stumbled through the door around two in the morning. Murphy moaning about his head, which was bandaged like a turban. He took one look at Shiloh's face, and groaned. "Don't be keeping me up all night wit yer yelling." Murphy was well aware of what was about to go down, he just wondered how far it would get this time. He walked towards his room, and closed the door.

"Connor…" Her voice trailed off, and Connor could feel his frustration start to boil. He didn't understand how he could love and hate when she says his name. Her accent contorted it, so it sounded like 'Connuh', and he loved that. He hated that he could only hear it as a precursor for her anger.

"What lass?" he dropped his bag on the table, and leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

"I've been thinking again, and I don't know if I'm cut out fuh this." She sighed. That was not the approach she was going for. She wanted to sound strong, she wanted to be strong when she did this to him.

"Look, lass, sleep on it, fer me?" he tried. "It'll look better tomorrow. Things'll be clearer, don't ye think?"

"Yuh can't keep puttin me off 'til tamarra Connor! I'm sick 'uh bein put off!" Shiloh growled. Her cheeks tinted pink with rage. Connor closed his eyes, working hard to keep his anger under control.

"I ain't puttin ye off lass! I'm just sayin maybe we should come back ta this when we aren't so tried, and stressed."

"Yuh only sayin thayt 'cuz yuh know I'm mad! Yuh keep hoping it'll burn out! And thayts worked for yuh so far! But not this tyme! Yuh gonna have tuh listen tuh me!"

"I'd rather listen to ye when ye aren't yellin at me. Yer impssible ta deal wit when yer angry."

"Me? No! Yuh impossible tuh deal, especially when yuh don't listen just cuz yuh don't like whut I have tuh say!" Shiloh's voice rose in decibel and pitch, a sure sign that she wasn't enjoying this conversation, but was too proud to admit it.

"What is it yer trying ta say!" Connor yelled back, having lost control of his temper. He threw his arms in the air. Shiloh just growled, and she stormed off. He'd refused to hear her again. He refused to acknowledge that she needed to talk to him.

Connor could see it, he was just afraid of what she was going to say, once finally given the chance.

_You know you can't give me what I need_

_And even though you mean so much to me_

_I can't wait through everything_

_this really happening?_

_I swear I'll never be happy again_

_And don't you dare say we can just be friends_

_I'm not some boy that you can sway_

_We knew it'd happen eventually_

"Yuh not good fuh me!" Shiloh finally cried. Connor growled, and tried to push her off. He just wanted her out of his face, and her conversation out of his head. "Quit pushin me off!" She managed to throw the words out violently, instead of the begging characteristic they had held in her head.

She had him this time, this time, she caught him before he left, and she was refusing to let go. He was hers right now,granted it was a few weeks later. That didn't matter to her. She had him and damn it he was going to listen.

"Quit doin this ta me!" He retorted. "Why can't we talk about this when I get back from the fucking hit!"

"Because this is the only tyme you'll listen tuh me! Any other tyme I try, is like talkin tuh a brick wall!" Her dark eyes were hard, and shiny. "Connor, jus listen tuh me, please!"

"What? What is it dat's so fuckin important!"

"I love yuh. I love yuh tuh death. Really, I do. But, this waiting, and wonderin, and hopin, and prayin, damnit, I can't do it anymore. I can't sit on yuh damn couch, and hope that you'll come back, even relatively unharmed! I can't wait. Not anymore." Shiloh finally spoke the words that had been in the back of her head since the beginning.

Connor stared shocked, at her.

"Ye got ta be kidding me."

"Connor…"

"No. I refuse ta believe what ye really want is ta walk away. If ye wanted ta walk, why haven't ye done so already? Why the fuck did ye stick around!"

"Why the fuck do yuh think! I tried to make this work, I tried tuh make us work! And Connor, baby, it just doesn't work-"

"Shiloh, please-"

"Connor." She interrupted his interruption. Her eyes met his, and they matched in anguish. Is this what she really wanted? Yeah. It was. It was for the best.

"Shiloh. Please." He tried again. "I don't think I'll be able ta give ye up that easy. Yer important ta me. Baby please."

"It's not like we'll nevuh see each other Connor. We can still be friends." She threw the cliché out there, just to see if it would make her feel better.

It didn't.

Connor merely scoffed. "Don't even give me dat bullshit. I deserve better den that, don't ye think? I deserve more den a handshake. Ye mean a lot ta me, and I ta ye. This won't be fucking easy."

"I never said it'll be fuckin easy! But it's betta then staying here and hurting each other the way we do. Yuh mean a hell of a lot to me too, and fuck, there's a good chance that we'll never be the same afta this. We can just be-"

"Don't even fuckin say it again." Connor snarled. "Don't fuckin belittle me like that. I ain't yer fuckin friend, and ye know dat!" he ran his hand angrily through his already crazy hair. "Do ye expect me ta just sit here and take this? To just lie down and let ye walk out? Yer one of the better things that's happened ta me, and I'll be damned if I just let ye go." His eyes shone with conviction. But to his dismay, he saw that Shiloh's did too.

Shiloh shook her head, her hands shaking with rage. She walked right up to Connor, grabbed his face in her hands, like he had done so many times to her, and pressed her lips gently against his forehead.

"Is for tuh best Connuh." Her accent got thicker as the tears threatened to betray her and fall. They threatened, but Shiloh's sinful pride refused to let them escape. She was strong, and she had to prove it. "We knew it wasn't fuhever." she whispered.

_La, la la la, la la la_

_Now everybody's singin'_

_La, la la la, la la la_

_Now everybody's singin'_

_(If you can wait 'til I get home)_

_La, la la la, la la la_

_Now everybody's singin'_

_(Then I swear we can make this last)_

_La, la la la, la la la_

_Now everybody's singin'_

Connor grabbed her face in his hands, and watched as her dark eyes threatened to drown in the tears that taunted the edges of her eyes. He shook his head. "We can talk about this after. Please. Just wait until I come home. Please Shiloh. Just wait a little bit longer"

Shiloh brought her hands up to his, and she relished in his touch, in everything. She loved this man. She really did. It just wasn't enough anymore. "I can't wait anymore. I just can't." She whispered.

Connor's heart immediately divided itself. One half screamed at him to make her stop waiting, and sit down with her on that couch she'd been a prisonor of for so long, and proved to her that he loved her.

The other half chided him, God had a calling for Connor. He had a special place among the Sinners. He couldn't turn his back on his God and his brother. What kind of man would he be then?

There were still people out there, still evil. There would always be evil men. Connor wasn't going to be done until he drew his last breath.

Shiloh already knew that, and she couldn't sit by and watch him to that to himself.

"We can make this last, if ye just wait. I promise." He whispered quietly, into her ear. Shiloh didn't have the heart to shake her head. She knew what would happen if she took a seat on that couch.

"Connor." Murphy's voice startled both of them. Connor looked at his brother, pain fresh in his eyes.

"What is it Murph?"

"We need ta go man. We have ta be on time." Murphy half mumbled. He didn't feel right, interrupting that like he did, but he and Connor had a job to do.

Connor clenched his jaw, and took a deep breath. "Please, be here when I get back." he managed through the blockade of teeth. He dropped his hands and followed Murphy out the door. Rosary pressed against his chest, and God pulling him towards another death. Another song written in blood.

_If you can wait 'til I get home_

_Then I swear we can make this last _

When Connor returned home from that hit, he walked into a dark apartment.

Empty.


End file.
